


Not Exactly De Profundis

by Persiflager



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflager/pseuds/Persiflager
Summary: Robert and Aaron meet in prison.





	1. Friday

Maroon is not Robert’s colour. Burgundy would be fine, there’s a burgundy wool suit hanging in his wardrobe that looks fantastic on him, but maroon has a purple-ish tinge that does his complexion no favours at all. That and the high polyester content are his chief objections to the prison uniform.

Fortunately, as Robert hasn’t yet been convicted of anything, he hasn’t been obliged to change. He was given a stack of clothing when he entered the prison but he’s still wearing the blue suit he put on this morning, back before he was abruptly arrested at the breakfast table for a crime he didn’t commit. It’s a good suit (it should be, the amount he paid for it), although it looks better with the tie they’ve taken off him. It doesn’t belong here.

Still holding the bundle of uniform and tatty-looking bed linen, Robert’s shown to his cell. It’s painted a dispiriting shade of dark green and is occupied by a fit but scowling young man with close-cropped dark hair lying on the bottom bunk reading a car magazine. Well, he’s probably just looking at pictures.

“Alright Sugden, this is your stop,” says the prison official, and he leaves.

“Hi,” says Robert, because he still retains some memory of the outside world’s customs.

The man looks up, gives him a once-over, then goes back to his magazine.

“I’m Robert.” The chances of a civil conversation are looking increasingly slim. Maybe he’d better sign up for one of those penpal schemes.

The man glances at him again and sighs. “Aaron.” His voice is softer than Robert would have expected, with a local accent. 

“Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

Aaron rolls his eyes and goes back to his reading. “Delighted.”

..

After about forty minutes of sitting in silence, Robert and his cellmate get told that they have visitors and are escorted to the visiting room. Robert sees Chrissie before she spots him. She looks as beautiful ever - pissed off, but beautiful.

They haven’t had a chance to speak since Robert was arrested. Lawrence has gone to considerable lengths to frame Robert, including convincing the police he’s a flight risk with a false passport and tickets to Ecuador. If it wasn’t for the inconvenience of it all, Robert might have been flattered.

“Thank god you’re here,” says Robert as he sits down. He means it; he doesn’t think he’s ever been so glad to see anyone as he is to see Chrissie right now.

“I thought I should come in person.” Chrissie looks as tense as Robert feels. He doesn’t blame her; being surrounded by thirty criminals and assorted uniformed guards is not an atmosphere conducive to relaxation and romance.

“Have you managed to speak to your dad?”

“We’ve talked, yes.” Chrissie taps a well-manicured nail on the plastic table between them. She’s not wearing her engagement ring. “How could you do this to us?”

Robert feels like he’s been slapped. “What?”

“I suppose that was why you proposed. Dad was right all along about you, and I was a fool to be taken in. And then, what, you got impatient?”

“Chrissie, I didn’t take that money! Your dad set me up.”

“Don’t lie to me, Robert.”

“I’m not lying!” A guard looks over and Robert lowers his voice. “I’m not lying to you. I swear on my mother’s grave. Your dad framed me to get me away from you, because he’s a vicious old bastard. But you know me. You know that I love you, and you know that I’m telling the truth.”

She tips her head on one side. “You’re very good. It’s not surprising that I fell for it, really.”

“Chrissie-”

“But I’ve seen the files, Robert. I’ve seen the bank transactions. I’ve seen the trail you laid to hide your tracks. Sloppy work, by the way.”

Amid the devastation of his life, Robert takes time to be offended by that. “Oh come on, if I’d ripped you off I think I’d have been a bit smarter about it than that.”

“What a stirring defence.”

“Look-”

“No, you look.” Chrissie bites her lip. She’s going to cry, he realises. Chrissie never cries. “I came in person to tell you that we’re through. The engagement is off. I’ll send your things to Diane.” She gets up. “I suppose it was too much to hope that you’d do the decent thing and confess.”

“Well, considering that I didn’t actually do what I’ve been accused of, yes, yes it was.”

“Give it up, Robert,” says Chrissie, and with that she turns and leaves.

Robert sits back in his chair. The absolute fuckedness of his situation is too much to contemplate for the moment so he looks around the room instead. He sees his cellmate (Aaron, his brain dredges up) who’s talking to an elderly woman wearing a funny little hat - his grandmother?

Aaron looks up and Robert looks away. One of the guards takes him back to their cell. He climbs up to his bunk, lies down, stares at the ceiling and contemplates a maroon-coloured future.

..

The first time Robert met Chrissie had been at after-work drinks at a new wine bar in Leeds, celebrating winning the Davidson account. Lawrence had been introducing her to everyone (well, showing her off) and when Chrissie smiled at Robert he’d seen a future.

Lawrence is (mostly) wrong about the money; Robert wouldn’t have gone for Chrissie if he didn’t fancy her, or if he didn’t enjoy her company, or if he didn’t think they wanted the same things out of life. But the money was part of the package, same as her being Lawrence’s daughter. Within thirty seconds of meeting Chrissie Robert had had it all planned out - their marriage, him taking over from Lawrence, everything. He’d fallen in love with her too, which was a nice bonus, but he’d fallen in love with the life he saw for them first.

He’d thought she’d loved him too. Then again, he’d thought Lawrence would come around to him as a son-in-law. The fact that he’s currently staring at a grim concrete ceiling says he was wrong on both counts.

There’s a knock on the open cell door.

“Hiya,” says Aaron.

Robert ignores him and carries on staring at the ceiling. There are a lot of cracks. He might as well count them, seeing as he’s got nothing better to do.

“It’s tea-time,” says Aaron. “We’ve got to go fetch our tea now.”

“Do I have a choice?” It’s not even five o’clock yet, this is ridiculous.

“Erm, not really.”

“Fine.”

‘Fetching the tea’ consists of queuing up for twenty minutes to be given a tray of food that makes school dinners look good by comparison. Robert’s also given a single-serving pack of cornflakes and a small plastic carton of UHT milk for his breakfast tomorrow, the prospect of which makes him give serious thought to the prospect of killing himself with the plastic cutlery provided.

They eat dinner in silence, Robert at the desk and Aaron sitting on his bunk. Robert would like to say that he turns his nose up at the meal but the truth is that he’s starving. He’d only eaten half a slice of toast when the police showed up and he hasn’t had anything since, so the food disappears in no time at all. Aaron chews away with determined stoicism. Afterwards Aaron washes his dishes and cutlery up in the bathroom sink so Robert does likewise, borrowing Aaron’s tea-towel to dry with.

“Fancy a brew?” says Aaron when they’ve both finished.

Robert contemplates this for a minute. He doesn’t particularly want to make conversation, especially with a chavvy con. On the other hand, he would kill for a cup of tea.

“Yeah, ta.”

Aaron just nods and gets on with it, making tea with his little travel kettle filled up from the bathroom sink. He’s got a box of tea bags and a little bag of sugar that Robert hadn’t noticed before. How did he get them? Did he buy them inside? Did someone send them to him? The practicalities of this life suddenly seem overwhelming. In the last ten years Robert’s never been in a situation that he couldn’t walk away from, let alone one in which he couldn’t make himself a cup of tea when he wanted.

Robert stands there like a muppet and watches until Aaron eventually hands him a steaming mug, and they wind up sitting side by side on Aaron’s bunk.

“How was your visit?” asks Aaron.

Robert glances at his face to see if he’s being sarcastic, but he seems sincere. “Bit shit.”

“Ah.”

“She thinks I’m guilty.”

“And you’re not?”

“Doesn’t everyone say that?”

“Not everyone,” says Aaron. “I handed myself in.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Got tired of running.” Aaron blows on his tea. “So, what happened to you?”

To his surprise, Robert finds himself telling him everything.

..

“Wow,” says Aaron when Robert’s finished. The tea’s long gone. They’ve both shifted around while Robert’s been talking - Robert’s sitting back against the wall now, his legs stretched out in front of him, and Aaron’s sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. “And I thought my family was messed up.”

“You believe me?” asks Robert, surprised.

Aaron shrugs. “No reason not to.”

“Chrissie doesn’t, and we’re supposed to be getting married.” It hurts more than he thought it would. Robert will admit that he’s not been a perfect boyfriend to Chrissie (not that she knows that) but he’d meant every word when he’d proposed. He’s even tried to be a decent influence on her psycho son, but clearly it wasn’t enough for her to trust him.

“Yeah, but he’s her dad. It’s different, innit.”

This is reasonable, but Robert doesn’t feel reasonable. Clearly Aaron has a better relationship with his dad than Robert ever had with Jack.

“So, what are you going to do now then?”

Robert turns his hands over, palms-up. “Well, that’s the question. I should probably start by getting a lawyer, now it looks like I actually need one. Call Vic, see if she’ll bring me some clean clothes.”

Aaron nods. “Reckon you can prove he set you up?”

“Doubt it. Lawrence is a nasty piece of work but he’s not an idiot. My best shot was getting Chrissie to talk him round.”

“Right,” says Aaron. “So that’s you fucked, then.”

“Pretty much,” says Robert, and when he catches Aaron’s eye he can’t help but laugh. Aaron does too, with a big, beautiful grin that Robert catches himself staring at. He looks away as soon as he realises what he’s doing; there’s a time to be reckless and this isn’t it.

“How about you?” asks Robert, changing the subject. “How was your visit? I’m guessing that was your gran with the tea-cosy on her head.”

Aaron pulls a face. “Edna? Nah, just a nosy neighbour. Feels guilty for grassing me up.”

“But you still let her visit?”

“She is who she is. It all worked out in the end anyway. Who’s Vic?”

“My sister. Why?”

Aaron shrugs. “No reason.” His eyes are alive with intelligence and very blue. He looks at his watch. “Come on, we’ve got association now. You can call your lawyer. Come hang out after, if you like. Might take your mind off things.”

“I’m in prison for something I didn’t do, my fiancee’s just dumped me and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my job, seeing as it was my boss who framed me. I don’t think socialising with a bunch of criminals is going to cheer me up.”

Aaron stands and stretches. Robert catches just a flash of taut stomach, line of dark hair leading down below his waistband. “Suit yourself.”

..

After Aaron shows him to the phone and explains how to use his account, Robert phones the only law firm from the list whose name he recognises. He speaks to Rakesh Kotecha, who promises to come round first thing in the morning and doesn’t sound completely stupid.

He can’t call Vic because (a) he can’t remember her phone number off by heart, and (b) all personal phone numbers have to be cleared first, presumably to make sure he isn’t intimidating witnesses or arranging a daring escape. He adds this to the list of things to ask Rakesh in the morning.

Then, for want of anything better to do, Robert finds Aaron and follows him around.

..

 

These are the things Robert learns about prison:

\- It’s loud. Voices echoing, doors slamming, hard surfaces reflecting every noise. Of all the things Robert would have expected to miss inside, soft furnishings were not top of the list.

\- It smells like a cross between school and a hospital waiting room. Robert suspects a specially scented industrial cleaner, designed to kill germs and hope.

\- The time-table matters. Every minute of his day is scheduled, even when the scheduled activity is ‘doing fuck-all’.

These are the things Robert learns about Aaron:

\- Aaron has a best friend called Adam, who appears to regard prison as a particularly hardcore recreation centre. Robert can’t tell if they were friends before becoming incarcerated or if they bonded over table football. Either way Adam’s all over Aaron like a poorly trained dog.

\- People treat Aaron with a cautious respect. Not fear - there’s no intimidation, no cringing away. But Aaron carries himself in a way that makes you want to respect his personal space (Adam excepted).

\- Aaron doesn’t like fights. One bloke starts to kick off and before Robert can move Aaron’s there wrestling him away, telling him to knock it off.

What Robert doesn’t find out is what Aaron’s in for - what he did, if he’s been sentenced yet, how long he’s in for. He thinks it’s rude to ask. He also doesn’t want to know if he’s sharing a cell with a violent criminal, which frankly seems likely.

..

Fifteen minutes before lights out and Robert’s on his bunk staring at the ceiling again. Shouts echo down the corridor. He can still taste the vague approximation of lasagne they had for dinner because he hasn’t been able to brush his teeth. The list of stuff he needs to ask Vic to bring him grows longer by the hour.

He’s thinking about how he’s going to get revenge on Lawrence when he gets out. Currently murder is topping the list. Robert’s finding it extremely comforting to contemplate strangling Lawrence, or shooting him, or simply terrifying him until he finally has a heart attack for real and Robert can watch him die gasping and desperate on the floor. Practically speaking Robert knows he’s not really the hand-on type, but fantasies might be the only pleasure he gets for a while so there’s no reason not to go all-out.

“Alright?” comes a voice from the bottom bunk.

Robert leans over the side of the bed to see Aaron at the edge of his bunk looking up at him. They haven’t spoken for the past hour or so. Robert’s been busy with his thoughts of vengeance and Aaron’s been working his way through an exercise routine, silent save for the odd grunt.

“First day,” says Aaron. “It’s not easy.”

“Could be worse,” says Robert. “Nobody’s shivved me yet.”

“Nobody’s going to shiv you,” says Aaron, looking weirdly offended for a hardened criminal. “What the fuck have you been watching?”

Robert grins. Aaron might be a thug but he’s currently the closest thing to a friend Robert has. He even lent Robert his car magazine to read. “Next thing you’ll be saying I shouldn’t drop the soap in the showers.”

Aaron blinks and suddenly looks very tired and rolls away out of sight. “Goodnight, Robert.”

The lights go out. Robert drags the rough sheets up over him and falls asleep.


	2. Saturday

The sound of someone moving around wakes Robert up and it takes him a few seconds to remember where he is. He feels grimy. Still half-asleep, he rolls onto his side and finds himself watching Aaron get dressed. Aaron’s pretty fit, actually - nice arse, muscled arms. There are worse sights to wake up to.

Aaron pulls on his sweatshirt, turns round, and looks up.

Robert freezes.

“Get a good look?” says Aaron, taking a step forward. His shoulders are high, his hands are coiled into fists, and Robert isn’t afraid of violence but this, this is bad.

“I wasn’t-”

“Yeah, you were. Have you got a death wish or something?”

“I’m sorry,” says Robert, sitting up and moving back. “I was just staring into space, honest. I’ve not even woken up properly.”

Aaron doesn’t look convinced.

“Look, I’m not interested in blokes. I’m - up until yesterday I was engaged, to a woman, remember? You saw her visiting me. She’s gorgeous.” Robert injects every ounce of sincerity he possesses into his voice and attempts a smile. “Cut me some slack, yeah? I don’t want any trouble.”

Aaron doesn’t look any happier but his shoulders go down. “Alright,” he says, and moves away before turning back to face Robert. “You need to be more careful, yeah?”

“I’m not-”

“Doesn’t matter, not in here. It’s what people think that matters. Believe me, you do not want someone getting the wrong impression.”

“Right,” says Robert. “Noted.”

Aaron nods before heading to the bathroom, and Robert exhales.

..

Rakesh seems competent enough, as lawyers go. They spend three hours going through the details of Robert’s case and re-examining every piece of evidence, at the end of which Rakesh leaves to go back to his life and Robert gets to go back into prison. Rakesh did bring him a toothbrush and toothpaste though, which was nice.

“So what did he say?” asks Aaron. They’re back in their cell for lunch, which appears to be mostly chips.

“That I need to find someone who can back up my claim that Lawrence had a grudge against me. My brother’s the only one I can think of, though, and we’re not exactly close.” That’s an under-statement. Robert’s fairly sure Andy would be delighted to see him locked away, if only so that he didn’t have to worry about Katie disappearing the night before the wedding again.

“Worth a try though, eh?”

“Mm.” Robert eats another chip. He’s depressed and itchy. After wearing his clothes from yesterday to the meeting with Rakesh to maintain his appearance as a law-abiding citizen, he’s finally given in and changed into the official tracksuit bottoms (grey), t-shirt (grey), sweatshirt (maroon) and trainers (grey). He’s kept his own pants on, though; there are some limits.

“How bad are the showers here?” asks Robert, preparing to face the worst.

Aaron pulls a face. “Like school but worse.” He nods at the window sill where his small pile of possessions stands carefully arrayed. “Borrow my shower gel if you like, there’s never any soap.”

“Thanks.”

“And flip-flops. You don’t want to go in there barefoot.”

Roberts nods and decides that he can wait another day.

..

At two o’clock they’re chucked outside into a concrete courtyard for some fresh air and exercise. It’s chilly, winter just around the corner, and the ground is still damp from the rain overnight. Everyone huddles in little groups or walks slowly round the perimeter in low-voiced pairs. There are tense looks and raised voices from a couple of the groups; based on everything he’s learned from TV, Robert’s guess is either a deal gone wrong or a lover’s quarrel. Either way he plans to steer clear.

Predictably, Robert and Aaron are joined by Adam. Robert doesn’t know why Adam doesn’t hang out with his own cellmate. He also doesn’t care enough to ask.

“So, listen,” says Adam, jogging on the spot. “You’re a businessman right, Robert?”

“Yes,” says Robert warily, shoving his hands deeper in the pockets of his inadequate trousers.

“How do you go about finding an investor for a new business?”

“Depends on the business. Why, are you planning on setting up shop in here?”

“Nah, mate. It’s for when we get out, innit? Got to make plans.”

Robert suppresses his immediate thoughts on Adam and Aaron's business potential and contents himself with saying, “Getting out soon, then?”

“I’ve got two more months but Aaron here’s out tomorrow.” Adam digs Aaron in the side as he says this, making Aaron squirm and wriggle away. “Going to have a pint or ten for me, aren’t you, lad?”

“Didn’t mention that,” says Robert, catching Aaron’s eye.

“You didn’t ask,” says Aaron.

..

They eventually get called back inside. In between games of table football Aaron and Adam argue about business ideas and Robert gets dragged in in spite of himself because he’ll never not be interested in ways to make money. Plus Adam and Aaron actually listen to him, which makes a nice change from having every suggestion he makes ignored by Lawrence.

Tea tonight is sausages, chips and beans. They each get handed another depressing breakfast package and return to their cell to be locked in for the dinner hour.

“So,” says Robert when he’s cleared his tray. “Tomorrow you’ll be a free man.”

Aaron stabs his last chip and uses it to mop up a smear of tomato sauce. “Never know, maybe you will be too.”

“Yes, because that’s looking so likely. Let’s face it, if even my own fiancee didn’t believe me, how am I going to convince a jury?”

Aaron chews and swallows before responding. “Did you manage to get in touch with your sister?”

Robert shakes his head and stretches his legs out. “My solicitor said he’d speak to her but she won’t be able to visit until Monday, if then. I can’t get her phone number cleared because I can’t remember it. I mean, who even knows phone numbers off by heart these days?”

“You really want to talk to her?”

“It’s not just about her bringing stuff,” admits Robert. “Although don’t get me wrong, I’d kill for a change of clothes right now. I just want to talk to her, make sure she knows I didn’t do it.”

Aaron drums his fingers on his knee. “OK,” he says. “Alright. Look, the thing is, you can call her on my PIN if you like. There’s credit left. I don’t need it now, I can wait til I get home.”

“Thanks, but I don’t see how that helps.”

“Her number’s cleared for contact on my account. The pub where she works, anyway. My mum owns half of it.”

It takes Robert a moment to process that information. “You’re Chas Dingle’s son.”

Aaron nods.

“Any particular reason you didn’t mention this before?”

Aaron shrugs. “Does it matter?” He gets up in a sudden, fluid movement and goes to the desk to grab a pen before scribbling something down on a scrap of paper. “Look, use it or not, it’s up to you.” He holds the paper out until Robert takes it then picks up his tray and goes to wash up in the bathroom sink.

Robert watches him go.

..

There’s a queue for the phone and Robert has to wait twenty minutes for his turn, listening to conversations that are by turn tedious and cringe-inducing.

He still half expects that Aaron’s winding him up but the number goes through and rings.

“Hello, Woolpack?”

“Diane,” says Robert, giddy with relief and a little embarrassed that it hadn’t occurred to him that she might pick up the phone. “It’s Robert.”

Her gasp is audible even over all the background noise of the pub. “What’s going on, pet? The police have been by and Chrissie sent over boxes with all your stuff.”

“I haven’t done anything. Lawrence set me up. I’m in prison on remand.”

“Oh, Robert-”

“I didn’t do it,” says Robert, hating how desperate he sounds. “You have to believe me.”

“Of course I believe you,” says Diane, and Robert breathes easy. “Only you could wind someone up that much. What can I do?”

“Can you visit me? You or Vic. They’ve got spaces open on Monday. It’s just that I haven’t got anything-”

“Say no more, I’ll sort it out. Chas will know what’s needed, I’ll have a word with her.”

And there’s his opening. “Funny you should mention Chas,” he says, trying to sound casual. “I’m sharing a cell with her son.”

“Aaron? Now there’s a piece of luck. He’ll look out for you, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, he’s-”

“They’ve not been giving him a hard time, have they? Only I know what prison’s like.”

“Him? You’ve got to be joking,” says Robert, and he wants to ask more but there’s a warning beep telling him his time is nearly up. “Listen, I’ve got to go,” he says, and just manages to give Diane his prisoner number and the name of his solicitor before they get cut off.

..

Aaron’s not in their cell when Robert gets back. He eventually finds him hanging out with Adam in the rec room, playing some card game on one of the tables.

“Alright mate?” says Adam when he spots Robert.

“Yeah,” says Robert, looking at Aaron, whose attention appears to be entirely focussed on shuffling a deck of cards. His hands are fast, riffling the cards with smooth, well-practised movements. “I spoke to Diane. Thanks for that, it meant a lot.”

Adam looks confused. Robert’s pretty sure this is his default state.

“He’s Robert Sugden,” says Aaron at last. “Vic’s brother. I let him call the pub on my account.”

“No way!” says Adam, looking delighted, and he smacks Robert on the arm. “That’s awesome. Hometown posse!”

Robert fails to see what’s so wonderful about a small village with a high crime rate, but he’s much more interested in the fact that Aaron won’t meet his eyes.

The thing is, there aren’t actually that many reasons why someone would be given a hard time in prison.

“Oh man, the stories I’ve heard about you,” says Adam, grinning. “Vic must be well chuffed you’re back.”

“Well-”

“Who cares about gossip?” says Aaron, crossing his arms. “I swear, you’re worse than my mum.”

The bell rings for tea before Robert can say anything else and they file out, Adam chattering all the way.

..

Tea tonight is macaroni cheese, as far as Robert can tell. It’s definitely yellow.

Aaron still hasn’t said a word by the time they’ve finished eating so Robert has to make the first move.

“So, you’re gay.”

“Yep, says Aaron. “Got a problem with that?”

“No.” Robert definitely doesn’t have a problem with gay men. He’s slept with enough of them, after all.

“Good.”

Robert watches him. “Is it really that big a deal?”

Aaron shakes his head. “You’ve got no idea what goes on in here.”

“I’ve been in here a couple of days and no-one’s had a go.”

“Yeah, because you were with me and Adam.” Aaron sighs and finally looks up. “Look, it doesn’t matter, alright? I’ll be out of here tomorrow anyway.”

“Alright,” says Robert. “You still got those cards?”

“Why?”

“Touch rugby, what do you think? I thought we could play something.”

Aaron laughs and fishes a battered packet out of his pocket.

..

Aaron’s shit at gin rummy but terrifyingly good at poker. Honestly, Robert’s embarrassed it took him so long to work out what was going on.

“You’re cheating,” he says, narrowing his eyes as Aaron once again folds just as Robert’s got a decent hand.

“Don’t know what you’re on about,” says Aaron, straight-faced but for the hint of amusement in his eyes. They’re sitting on Aaron’s bunk again, using the small stretch of mattress between them for a table.

Robert looks at his cards again, then looks at the backs. “They’re marked.”

“Took you long enough,” says Aaron, grinning at him.

“Should have known you were a Dingle.” Robert puts his cards down and stretches, hands behind his head.

“Should have checked the cards, you mean. You’re just lucky we weren’t playing for anything.”

Robert hums in agreement. The bed beside him shifts as Aaron gathers up the cards and starts shuffling.

“So, I’ve got a question about prison etiquette,” says Robert. “Seeing as you’re off tomorrow and I’m going to have to fend for myself.”

“Go on,” says Aaron, distracted.

“What are the rules about wanking?”

The shuffling stops.

Robert turns his head to see a scandalised expression on Aaron’s face, his eyebrows sky-high. “Oh come off it, you can’t tell me there isn’t a code of conduct about this sort of thing. Is it a boarding school, all lads together, homo-erotic sort of thing? Or wait until your cellmate’s asleep and hope they don’t notice?”

“I don’t know,” says Aaron with a strangled-sounding voice. “I didn’t ask.”

“Yeah, but you must have thought about it. You’ve been in how long?”

“One month, and you’ve obviously thought about this way too much.”

“Long time to go without getting off,” says Robert, and this time he lets Aaron catch him looking.

“Ah,” says Aaron, looking back at Robert. The air is warm between them. “Like that, is it?”

“You tell me.”

“You said you were straight.”

“That was this morning,” says Robert. “I hear prison changes people.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything but his breathing has sped up and his attention is completely focussed on Robert. It’s the first time since they met that Robert’s felt even close to having the upper hand. It’s intoxicating. He’s half-hard in his horrible grey tracksuit bottoms and they haven’t even touched yet.

“Later, yeah?” says Aaron with a glance at their cell door.

“It’s a date.”

..

Nothing much happens for the rest of the evening, not while the lights are on. Robert plays solitaire for a while while Aaron’s working out, then he gives up and watches Aaron.

Aaron’s even fitter than Robert had assumed at first glance, powering through an endless sequence of push-ups, sit-ups, squats and planks and barely breaking a sweat. He’s taken his sweatshirt off and Robert shamelessly watches his biceps flex and contract. Aaron could probably pick him up without much effort; fuck him against the wall, maybe. It’s been years since Robert was fucked.

Mid-crunch, Aaron looks up and catches Robert watching him. Robert’s thoughts are probably written all over his face, he’s not trying to be subtle. Aaron rolls his eyes before carrying on but there’s the faintest trace of a blush on his cheeks. Robert doesn’t look away.

The lights go out at ten o’clock and for a moment neither of them moves. It’s not completely dark - there’s some reflected light coming in the window, enough that Robert can make out Aaron’s outline where he’s standing between Robert and the cell door. Robert waits.

Aaron makes his way to the bed and grabs Robert’s shoulder before sitting down next to him. He’s warm, a solid mass against Robert’s side, and his touch lights Robert up inside. Robert reaches out himself, his hand landing on Aaron’s thigh, and then Aaron makes a small noise of frustration before taking hold of Robert’s face and kissing him.

Robert can’t think while Aaron’s kissing him. It’s like a switch has been flipped and all of Aaron’s suppressed energy is focussed on Robert. His mouth is soft, his breath hot, his hands all over Robert. Robert’s never been so hard in his life. He drags one of Aaron’s hands to his cock and presses down hard, aching with it. Aaron makes a noise into his mouth and swings one leg over so that he’s in Robert’s lap, heavy and desperate, and when Robert gropes his arse he shudders.

“Yeah,” whispers Aaron, his lips brushing Robert’s neck, and Robert hadn’t been thinking much beyond getting off but now he can’t think of anything but wanting to be inside Aaron.

“Yes,” says Robert, too loud, and he moans when Aaron grinds down against him.

“Shut up, shut up, you have to be quiet,” says Aaron, not helping matters by wriggling.

Robert does his best by sinking his teeth into Aaron’s neck, dragging out a moan in return. “I will if you will,” he whispers and pulls Aaron down on the mattress so that they’re lying down, pressed up against each other from chest to balls, Robert lying in between Aaron’s legs with Aaron’s cock pressing into his stomach. The bed creaks as they sink into it but Robert doesn’t care. He digs his fingers into the dense muscle of Aaron’s arse as he thrusts up against him in a mimicry of fucking, Aaron panting in his ear, the friction hot and rough against his cock.

Steps pass along the corridor outside the cell door and they both freeze until the echoes have faded away.

“This isn’t going to work,” says Aaron, climbing off him.

“No, wait, we can-”

“Come on,” says Aaron, grabbing Robert’s hand, and he pulls him up off the bed with sheer bodily strength and drags him to the corner of the cell along the wall from the door. They’re out of sight here. Robert can just about make out Aaron’s face in the dim light. He’s gorgeous, and right now he’s all Robert’s.

Robert crowds Aaron up against the wall and strips him in between kisses. He leaves Aaron’s t-shirt on as protection against the rough bricks but shoves it up at the front so he can touch Aaron properly, skin to skin. Aaron gets Robert’s top off sharp-ish and chucks it to the floor, and they both end up with their trousers and pants round their ankles, stroking each other’s cocks, kissing to the rhythm of their hands in the dark.

Robert gets his free hand on Aaron’s arse and feels down his crack, rubbing over his hole.

“Yeah,” whispers Aaron as he pushes back against Robert’s hand.

“I haven’t got anything.”

“Use spit, it’ll be alright. I can take it.”

Robert sucks his fingers wet and goes in again, pushing one finger in this time as Aaron sighs against him. He’s tight and hot inside. Robert feels like he’s handling something unbearably precious, or a bomb that might go off at any moment, Aaron reacts so much to every little movement. 

Objectively speaking, bare-backing a bloke in prison is probably one of the stupider decisions Robert’s made, but it’s worth all the risk for the noise Aaron makes when Robert’s got two fingers in him.

“OK, I’m good,” says Aaron, breathless, as Robert slowly withdraws his fingers. He turns around and braces himself against the wall, head on folded arms.

Robert takes a moment just to touch Aaron, stroking over his back and sides. He’s nervous, he realises - he can’t remember the last time he wanted something so much.

Aaron shifts, impatient. Robert spits into his hand and uses that to get his cock as wet as he can, then guides himself to Aaron’s arsehole and presses in.

It’s a slow process, almost unbearably so. Robert’s scared to move for fear of hurting him. He gets a hand on Aaron’s cock and that helps - feeling Aaron thick and leaking in his hand reassures him that he’s not getting it completely wrong. Robert kisses Aaron’s neck and gets as close as he can and eventually bottoms out, pressed up against Aaron’s lovely tight arse.

“Alright?” he asks, as quietly as he can, his breathing ragged.

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

Aaron’s breathing is loud in the darkness. Robert stays still, waiting for the word to move, feeling his pulse throb in his cock. When the waiting gets too much he kisses Aaron’s neck, from under his ear down to his shoulder, until Aaron sighs and tilts his head to one side to give Robert better access.

“OK,” says Aaron eventually.

Robert pulls his mouth away, gets a grip on Aaron’s hips and fucks him.

It’s slow at first, and careful. Robert hasn’t got anything to go by but the sound of Aaron’s breathing and what he can read of Aaron’s body language in the darkness, so he takes it easy until Aaron starts pushing back against him. He’s never had such quiet sex before. Between the silence and the darkness there’s nothing to distract Robert from the physical sensations. His whole world narrows to his fingers digging into Aaron’s sides, the ache in his buttocks from thrusting, and the overwhelming sweetness of Aaron tight around him.

Aaron’s elbow brushes against Robert’s fingers and he realises that Aaron’s wanking off, that he’s going to come. The thought of it makes Robert aware of his own orgasm barreling down on him with sudden inevitability. He reaches round blindly and wraps his hand over Aaron’s own hand and is rewarded with hot liquid spurting against his palm. Aaron tightens and Robert keeps thrusting, hard and uneven, and when he comes it knocks the breath right out of him.

They stay like that for a few minutes - sticky hands joined together, Robert plastered against Aaron’s warm and sweaty back.

“Right,” says Aaron.

“Yeah.” Robert lets go and withdraws slowly before picking his top up off the floor and pulling his trousers up. He feels weak-kneed and wobbly.

When Aaron’s finished splashing about in the bathroom Robert goes and has a cursory clean-up with cold water. Aaron’s in bed by the time he gets out.

“I’d say join me but it’s probably not a good idea,” says Aaron when Robert pauses by the bed.

“No,” says Robert. He climbs up to his bunk and drags the scratchy sheet and blanket over him. His heart’s still racing and his mind’s not much better. He feels far too wired to sleep. He wants to be lying next to Aaron in the shitty little bunk below, chatting until they fall asleep, maybe throw an arm round him. They’re four feet apart and it feels like a mile.

“What are you in for?” asks Robert.

“Absconding,” says Aaron, as if he’d been waiting for the question.

“Seriously? Is that it?”

“Why, what were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Assault? Armed robbery? Something a bit more hardcore.” Aaron’s snort of laughter drifts up to him. “I didn’t even know you could get a prison sentence for that.”

“Yeah, well, I gave a false statement to the police and went to France for two years. They weren’t very happy.”

“All that for something you hadn’t even done?”

“Mm,” says Aaron before yawning. “I was covering for a mate.”

“Some mate,” says Robert. “Jesus. I hope you at least had a good time in France.”

“Eh, it were alright.” There’s a creaking sound as Aaron shifts on his mattress. “There was a bloke. The parts involving him were pretty good.”

“Right,” says Robert. “And is he still in the picture?”

“No,” says Aaron, and Robert can hear the smile in his voice. “Night, Robert.”

“Night,” says Robert. He yawns, rolls over, and is still thinking about the sound of Aaron’s voice when he falls asleep.


	3. Sunday

Robert wakes up to see Aaron packing his bag. He’s wearing a blue suit, tie, the works. It looks good on him.

“So,” says Robert, trying to sound cheerful. “Back to the outside world.”

“Yeah,” says Aaron. He zips the bag shut and comes over. “Listen, I’ve left you some stuff.” He nods at the desk where there’s a little pile of toiletries, flip flops and what looks like clean underwear. “Stick with Adam and don’t mouth off to anyone and you’ll be alright.”

“Cheers,” says Robert. “And thanks. For looking out for me.” This is ridiculous; he’s only known Aaron three days but he doesn’t want him to go.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah?” Aaron looks nervous, Robert realises; he’s worried about him.

Robert flashes him a reassuring, ‘everything’s under control’ Sugden smile. “Don’t suppose you fancy punching Lawrence White in the face for me?”

“Lawrence _White_?” says Aaron, frowning. “Is that-”

The door swings open and a prison guard steps in. “Livesy, time to go.”

Aaron looks at Robert as if he wants to say something else, then picks up his bag and steps away. “Take care, Robert,” he says, and then he’s gone and Robert’s alone.

..

After having breakfast on his own in the cell, Robert spends the morning hanging out with Adam. He gets treated a potted history of Adam’s love-life, a long lecture entitled ‘Aaron Livesy, Best Friend Ever’, and Adam’s thoughts on women (on which he’s clueless), football (on which he’s deluded) and the banking crisis (on which he’s so hopelessly ignorant that Robert gives serious thought to stabbing him with a plastic knife just to get him to shut up).

He also gets to hear the edited highlights of how Aaron came to take the fall for Adam committing arson (exhibit A in the best friend lecture). He can’t fathom why Aaron would have done such a thing. He can’t fathom why anyone would do such a thing, let alone for a muppet like Adam.

Lunch is chicken nuggets and chips. Robert eats it sitting on Aaron’s bunk, listening to the rain, thinking about what he’ll do when he gets out. Murdering Lawrence is still high on his list of priorities but after that he thinks he might like to look Aaron up. It wouldn’t be hard, he knows where Aaron’s mum works, or he could ask Diane. He wants to know what Aaron does for fun, what he’s like when he’s drunk, if he always gives random strangers the benefit of the doubt or if there was something special about Robert.

He’s also starting to have serious fantasies about a long, hot bath.

In the afternoon Robert braves the showers. They’re lukewarm and crowded but people mostly seem to leave each other alone so it could be worse. He wears Aaron’s flip-flops (his heels hanging off the ends), showers with Aaron’s mint three-in-one shower gel, and when he gets back to the cell he puts on one of Aaron’s clean pairs of pants. They’re black and soft and make him feel human again, if slightly stalker-ish.

Tea is pasta bake, which is alright, and a side-salad, which is not. Robert spends the time trying to figure out when to call Diane and Vic. Should he go early in case there’s a queue or save it for later so he’s got something to look forward to? Ten years of not calling them when he could and now he can’t wait. He walks by the phones but there’s a huge line so he goes to find Adam because even talking to Adam beats sitting in his cell on his own, and they’re right in the middle of an argument about table football rules when a prison officer comes up to then.

“Sugden. Come with me. Someone wants to see you.”

..

Robert’s shown to a meeting room where Rakesh is already sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Good news,” says Rakesh once Robert has sat down. “The charges against you have been dropped.”

“What? Lawrence has confessed?”

Rakesh shakes his head. “He’s withdrawn his statement but he’s admitting nothing. Without him as a witness the CPS won’t pursue the case. There’s also not enough evidence to charge him for anything. Between you and me I think the police have a pretty good idea of what happened, but there’s nothing to go on.”

“What about my statement? If the police aren’t willing to go after him, surely I can sue? He can’t get away with this.”

“I’d advise against it.” Rakesh taps his pen on the table. “Mr Sugden, you’re going to be released from prison tonight. You can go home and put this all behind you, but if you antagonise Mr White he might change his mind. If I were you I’d consider myself lucky.”

..

The process of being released from prison is simultaneously fast and interminable. Robert’s taken back to his cell where he gets ten minutes to change into his suit and grab his (well, Aaron’s) things before being marched out. They walk past Adam and Robert thrusts the meagre bundle of possessions at him.

“Aaron’s stuff,” says Robert by way of explanation. “I’ve been released.”

“Alright for some,” says Adam. “Cheers though.”

“Come along,” says the guard with an impatient look, and Robert gets taken through to a room where he fills in form after form and signs for his phone, wallet and tie before unceremoniously being chucked out on the dark street, blinking and crumpled and (he realises belatedly) still wearing Aaron’s pants.

A car drives up and Robert’s dazzled by the headlights. It’s a relief when they shut off.

The car door slams. “Robert?”

Robert squints into the darkness. “Chrissie?”

She runs at him, heels clicking on the cobbles, and before he can process what’s going on Chrissie’s hugging him.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” she says, standing back. “Rakesh only called half an hour ago and traffic was a nightmare. Are you hungry? Do you want to eat here or go straight home? You poor thing, the last couple of days must have been a nightmare.”

Robert shoves his hands in his pockets. “Forgive me if I’m a little confused. Last time we saw each other you broke it off, now you’re playing the loving fiancee.”

Chrissie has the grace to look abashed. “I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me? Dad’s explained everything.”

“Has he now.”

“Of course.” Chrissie shivers. She’s not wearing a coat, he realises. She must have dashed out the house as soon as she heard the news. This makes him feel a little better. “Can’t we talk in the car? I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

Robert reflects on this. If nothing else, it saves him calling a taxi. “Alright,” he says agreeably before getting into the passenger seat.

..

Chrissie repeats the story Lawrence spun her as she drives - how a disgruntled former employee had robbed the company before laying a false trail to pin the blame on Robert, and how sorry Lawrence was for taking the evidence at face value.

Robert refrains from commenting on this. Chrissie’s not stupid but it’s obvious by now that she’s got a massive blind spot where her dad’s concerned, and always will. He could pull the same shit tomorrow and she’d still take his side. But if Chrissie didn’t talk Lawrence round, who did?

He watches the street lights go by outside the window as Chrissie’s talking about the effect all this has had on Lachlan and only tunes back in when she starts talking about the funny old woman who’d visited Lawrence that morning.

“Sorry,” says Robert, breaking in mid-sentence, “what did you say her name was?”

“Ethel or Edith or something like that,” says Chrissie. “You know the sort - all twitching lace curtains and organising the church flower rota. I think dad used to know her. Why?”

“No reason,” says Robert. “Just rang a bell.”

“She must have had a lot to say, they were in his office for ages. Her poor grandson must have been so bored, waiting out in the car like that.”

“Ah,” says Robert. “Young kid, was he?”

“God no. Quite a good-looking young man, actually. Didn’t exactly have much to say for himself. I did ask him in for a coffee but he just grunted at me. Anyway, then they left and dad got the call from the police. He spent all afternoon down at the police station and they didn’t tell us you were getting out until after dinner, so I came as fast as I could and now here you are.”

“Thanks,” says Robert, distracted. They’re coming into Emmerdale now, driving along the High Street. He can see the lights of the pub, and- “Pull over.”

“What? Why?”

“Can you just pull over for a minute? We need to talk.”

Chrissie pulls into the pub car park and turns the engine off.

“What’s the matter?”

Robert can’t speak for a moment. He’s pretty sure he’s about to do something he’s going to regret. It’s not too late to fix things with Chrissie - she obviously feels bad about doubting him, he can use that. They can go home now and it’d be as if the last few days never happened. He can go back to charming Chrissie, charming clients, scheming against Lawrence - the plates are all still spinning.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” says Robert slowly, appalled at himself as he does so. “Us, I mean. I think you were right to call it off.”

Chrissie’s quiet. He looks up to see her biting her lip. “Is this because I believed Dad over you? Because the evidence-”

“No,” says Robert. “Well, yes, a bit. But aren’t you tired of always being stuck in the middle?”

“That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true,” says Robert, and he realises as he says it that his hand is on the door handle. “Look, I’ve had a rough couple of days. I’m going to see Diane and Vic, stay with them tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?”

Chrissie nods. “Alright,” she says, beautiful in the moonlight and he’s never loved her more than in that moment.

Robert gets out of the car and Chrissie drives away.

..

The pub is hot, noisy and full of people. Jimmy and Nicola appear to be having an argument in one corner, there’s a group of Dingles at the bar, and at the far side Robert can see Aaron, pint in hand, frowning at someone or something.

Vic spots him first and waves, wide-eyed and beaming. “Robert!”

Robert makes his way over, conscious of Aaron in the corner of his eye.

“What on earth happened? Rakesh only just told us, I’d have come and picked you up if I’d known.”

“Don’t worry about it. Chrissie gave me a lift.”

“Wriggled out of it as usual then, did you?” As the crowd shifts Robert sees Andy sitting there, glaring as if the wind had changed and his face had got stuck like that.

“Well, it turns out that’s quite easy to do when you’re innocent.” Robert smirks at Andy and enjoys feeling the expression settle back on his face. God, how he’s missed feeling smug.

“Yeah right. As if you’ve ever been-”

“Right, that’s enough,” says Vic. “I’m dead chuffed you’re home, Rob. What can I get you?”

“Pint, ta.” Robert watches her pour it and manages a few more minutes of conversation before she has to go back into the kitchen and he can safely sidle round to the other side of the bar.

“Alright,” he says, sliding onto the stool next to Aaron and putting on his most charming smile.

Aaron looks at him sidelong. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, you did get Lawrence to drop the charges. Thought I might buy you a pint.”

“That was Edna,” says Aaron. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, but I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Aaron looks suspicious. “Thought you’d be up at Home Farm, sorting things out with the missus.”

“So did I,” says Robert. “Not sure it’s worth it, though. In-law situation’s a nightmare.”

The faintest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Aaron’s mouth. “Reckon you’re going to regret that in the morning.”

“Probably,” says Robert, grinning.

Chas appears behind the bar and glares at Robert, god knows what for. “What are you doing here?”

“ _Mum_ ,” says Aaron.

“Buying your son a drink,” says Robert.

“Why?”

“Because he got me off,” says Robert easily and he hears Aaron choke beside him.

Chas glares at both of them. It appears to be her default setting. Robert’s starting to see where Aaron gets his welcoming disposition from. 

“That and going into business with him,” adds Robert, giving her his smarmiest smile.

Chas rolls her eyes, pours the drink, thumps it down in front of Aaron and takes Robert’s money.

“You what,” says Aaron when she’s gone.

“Well, I’m going to need a new job, and I’ve always fancied setting up my own business,” says Robert. He’d made it up on the spur of the moment just to annoy Chas but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like a brilliant idea. Aaron might not be the business brain of the century but he’s not an idiot and Robert can trust him; there are plenty of worse partners out there.

“And where exactly are we going to get this money to set up with?”

“From my former father-in-law-to-be, when I squeeze him tomorrow, after you tell me what your nosy neighbour’s got on him,” says Robert. “Oh, don’t look like that, he’s loaded, he won’t miss it. He’ll be glad to get rid of me, more like.”

Aaron huffs a laugh at that before taking a swig of his drink. Robert can’t help watching his throat as he swallows, remembers the faint scratch of stubble against his lips when he kissed it. There’s a faint mark high up, just under Aaron’s chin - did Robert put it there? Did he mark Aaron last night in the dark?

There’s want glowing hot in his stomach. He could kiss Aaron right here. He could buy him another drink and blow him in the toilets. They could have a few friendly drinks then sneak upstairs. They could dance around each other for weeks, talking about business in public and screwing in secret, or Robert could hold Aaron’s hand in the street. He’s not going to, but he could, and the possibility terrifies him.

“Got it all figured out, don’t you,” says Aaron. He sounds like he’s aiming for unimpressed but comes off as more admiring.

“Not entirely,” says Robert. He’s flying by the seat of his pants. He hasn’t been this scared since he drove out of the village with nothing more than a car and the clothes on his back.

Speaking of-

Robert leans closer. “I’m wearing your pants, by the way.”

Aaron gives him a startled look before laughing out loud. It’s a good look on him - broad smile, eyes bright.

“I’ve haven’t got a clue what I’m doing,” Robert confesses before he can think better of it.

Aaron’s eyes go soft. “Welcome to the club, mate,” he says, and knocks his knee against Robert’s. “Figure it out tomorrow, eh?”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Robert.


End file.
